


a vague trembling of stars

by ultraviolence



Category: Fate/Apocrypha, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M, Rivalry, Sibling Incest, answers the what if question of what if Karna is a Ruler, be prepared for angst, this is self-indulgent really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 19:24:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16540667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultraviolence/pseuds/ultraviolence
Summary: "'Archer of Red,' he stated, not bothering to turn to see his face, because he knows who it was. Why are you attacking me? The Grail had summoned me to be the judge of this Grand War.''It was an order,' the other said, after a pause. 'An order, from my Master.'"A.poc.ry.pha(n): writings or reports not considered genuine.Arjuna and Karna meet again, this time in the Great Holy Grail War.





	a vague trembling of stars

**Author's Note:**

> So this is another purely self-indulgent fic (lmfao) whose idea came from @fateaid on Twitter. This is, however, purely my interpretation. tbh, I never watched Apocrypha until the end because I think it's a whole load of crap, so yeah, I'm going with artistic license here cos I really liked the idea and the concept of Apo. 
> 
> In this fic, Karna manifested as a Ruler in place of Jeanne, and Arjuna is the Archer of Red instead of Atalante. Karna's NP is the Sun Chariot instead of VS. Don't ask me why. It just be like that.
> 
> Enjoy!

He could only see things in glimpses.

Do any other creature—in this universe and beyond—exist that were as wretched such as they, creatures bound to fate?

He doesn’t know. He could only pray.

* * *

Their first encounter was in a field like an open wound, in the border of what’s possible and impossible, the sun hanging low in the sky like an overripe fruit, heavy and bruised with night. 

He sensed his approach before it even registers, already persuading the kind old man who gave him a ride to the border to _leave him be_. The old man could not understand for the life of him why he would stop there, in the middle of nowhere, but he smiled with the grace of the gods that was given to him in this lifetime, and the other man _understands_.

This human body felt heavy, and he could hear the concern of its original occupant, but he calmed him down. _This will be a tough battle_ , he said, in his mind, sending a wave of calm, _but this is what the gods had appointed us for_. 

For everything is in the hands of the gods, and all is as the gods will it.

The arrow passes him by, an eagle who missed his mark, but Karna knows that it was by design. The owner of the bow never missed, and his clarity with it are famed even after his death, although “famed” is perhaps an understatement.

No. This man was more than famed. He was legend made flesh, as their kind was.

“Archer of Red,” he stated, not bothering to turn to see his face because he knows who it was. “Why are you attacking me? The Grail had summoned me to be the judge of this Grand War.”

_Brother_ , he could hear his pulse murmur, a mingling of blood and memories. _Brother brother brother_.

“It was an order,” the other said, after a pause, revealing his presence with his voice, calm and as deadly as the oceans. Another arrow whooshed past him. Karna remained rooted in his place. “An order, from my Master. And even if it was not an order, I would still do it. I would kill you.”

_Would that we live in a kinder world_ , a voice inside his head said, but Karna quickly silenced it. This wasn’t the time for weaknesses.

“Would you?” he asked, finally turning to face the other man, letting the setting sun fall behind him. “Wouldn’t it be against the will of the gods?”

“On the contrary,” the other man’s dark eyes gleamed, his all-white garments a marked contrast against his dark skin. “I would be fulfilling their will. It is what they had appointed I, Arjuna, to do.”

Karna smiled, slightly, bowing his head just as slightly in a gesture of mock respect. “Then a glaring question remained: why did the Grail choose me, brother lost, instead of you, to oversee and judge this War? Why did you manifest as an Archer of the Red Faction, while I manifested as a Ruler?”

Another arrow, and Karna avoided it deftly. The gleam in Arjuna’s dark eyes now signifies anger. Karna had successfully riled him up, but it wasn’t on purpose. He simply discerned the truth. Arjuna, like many people—oh, especially _Arjuna_ —could not handle the truth. Arjuna’s eyes darkened, his grip tightened on his bow.

“It is irrelevant. I am not your brother, and I am not your ally. I am your enemy,” he added, narrowing his eyes, already aiming another arrow at him, “treat me as such. Mark my words: I _will_ defeat you, Karna of the Kauravas. I will defeat you once and for all, and only then will my desire be complete.”

“Is that all you wished upon the Grail?” Karna stepped closer, raising a pale eyebrow. “Is that your wish, Arjuna? If that’s so, then it’s such a pity. A hero of your calibre could have wished for something more.”

Arjuna let loose another arrow, unconsciously letting out a small noise of frustration when Karna sidestepped it as easy as one might dodge a badly-aimed arrow. His arrow wasn’t badly-aimed at all, and wasn’t he Arjuna, the Hero of the Endowed? His name went down in history as one of the greatest heroes from the Land of Bharat, if not the greatest. He knows Karna’s true name immediately once he laid eyes upon him, but Karna’s parameters remained high. 

_Brother_ , Arjuna’s blood whispered to him, half-mad with longing, _brother brother lover_.

“I could not wish for anything more. Don’t mock me, Hero of Charity, King of Anga,” Arjuna spat through gritted teeth, firing another arrow only to have Karna dodge that one as well. “I swear to the gods, I will kill you again. I am your only and true enemy. Face me, Karna!”

To that, Karna merely smiled. His little brother had so much fire in him—the warmth and passion that he partially felt back when they were still alive, during their secret trysts—and part of him longs for it, but as a Ruler, he knows when to goad him and when to stop. 

He took one step closer, and then another, and another. 

“Then shoot me now,” he said, calmly, bare feet touching the earth gently, like an angel coming down from the heavens, equal parts mystery and terror, unearthly in his pallor and countenance, and he could see Arjuna’s emotions—shock, fear, surprise, longing, _love_ —all playing on his expression like an open book, a theatre of emotions, and he touched his chin, lightly. 

Arjuna lowered his bow.

* * *

Their second meeting was in the battlefield, bodies of homunculi all strewn out around them like broken dolls, like bloody toys all torn up and ripped apart. 

“So it has come to this,” Arjuna started, their gazes locked into each other, gripping his bow tighter than ever. His blood and body sang with the thrill of the battle, singing a song of hearts racing and survival of the smartest, but his heart, oh, his heart sang another song once he laid eyes on his elder brother. _Lover_ , it has said, grasping in the dark for a touch, yearning for a kiss. 

_Brother. Rival. Enemy_. 

“It has come to this,” Karna agreed, a touch of irony in his faraway voice. They both know what it means, what the moment means, and they stared at each other, drinking in the sight of the other. Oh, how their bodies wanted to touch. Oh, how their hearts wanted to _join_ , how their souls yearned for the presence of the other. 

Neither had thought that they would be summoned together to a Grail War, although Arjuna actively hoped for it. Karna unconsciously hoped for it, although he dare hoped…well, he dare hoped that things might be different this time. 

_Would that fate be kinder_ , a voice in Arjuna’s head said, but he shook it off. He loosened his grip on his bow and thrust out his hand, palm upwards, in a gesture like praying, or holding the world in his one, outstretched hand.

_The hand that used to hold on to you, that you used to hold_ , a voice in Karna’s head said, and he faltered in his defences for a moment—only a moment—bewitched by the sight of Arjuna’s hand. For a moment, he wanted to reach out and hold it instead. For a moment, he wanted to delay the catastrophe that’s about to happen, no matter how and why. For a moment, he could forget all about the Holy Grail War.

But then he prepared himself, and Arjuna recited the words, calling for the God of Destruction to raise his hand and rain catastrophe all around them.

* * *

Arjuna died—no, _disappeared_ —in his arms. When he called upon his noble phantasm, Karna called upon his, not the secret, world-destroying Shakti that Indra had entrusted upon him, but the chariot that was his father’s, his noble phantasm in this class and form. It was more defensive, and his father’s blessings protected him from the brunt of Arjuna’s noble phantasm.

But it was an imperfect defence mechanism.

“Y- you did it,” Arjuna wheezed, before falling to his knees. Karna, despite his condition, caught him immediately. “You…you defeated me…brother.”

Karna gave him a half-moon smile, half-cradling the boy that was a hero in his arms. The boy that he never knew, that he never grew up with. “Not entirely,” he said, brushing a stray lock from Arjuna’s temple. “You have defeated me too.”

There was a long silence, and Arjuna sighed, trying to raise himself up and failed. He had used altogether too much mana. “It’s a shame that we were both summoned as Servants,” he confessed, pulling Karna closer, voice barely a whisper. “Do you want to know my true wish, brother?”

_Would that we were both be reborn in another world, another universe_ , Karna thought, looking at his dying lover, his lost brother, _a gentler one_. 

“Tell me,” he said, clasping Arjuna’s hand. Even in this state, he still tried to shake him off. 

“My wish…” Arjuna breathed, and it felt like forever, “…is to have another life. With you.”

Karna was surprised—plainly—and he could feel Arjuna grasping for his hand, holding it feebly before brushing his face and then lips, gently, with his other hand. “Goodbye, Karna,” Arjuna said, forcing a smile, and for a moment, Karna could see defiance dancing in those dark eyes, “I’ll see you again soon.”

Gold dust filled his arms, and not long after, he collapsed, too. His human body could only take so much.

“I’m sorry,” he could hear himself say, although sorry for what, he cannot be sure. There is a legend—a collection of legends—about breaking free from the cycle, from the serpent devouring its own tail eternally, from the circle unending. Perhaps, he realised, in the end, as his spirit body began to melt away, that is what they all are aiming for. 

_Another life. With you_.

_I’m sorry._

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a whole series of this AU, but sadly, I don't have time, so alas, I have to settle with this Karjuna fic. Title is a snippet from a Frederico Garcia Lorca poem.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, as always, and comments and suggestions are welcome! <3


End file.
